


Pondering

by NamelessC



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Human!Bill, I had this laying around for way too long so i cut it short, Oneshot, Other, because that's not how life is man, gender neutral reader, no happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-22
Updated: 2018-08-22
Packaged: 2019-07-01 04:55:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15767034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NamelessC/pseuds/NamelessC
Summary: You weren't anything else than a tool to use for him.You weren't stupid enough to trick yourself into believing anything would end well, but even you couldn't help but ponder on the being that was Bill Cipher.





	Pondering

**Author's Note:**

> Short Oneshot that I had started a long time ago but didn't finish up to now. The ending is left open to mostly interpretation but nothing happy is implied.  
> \---  
> P/N I have been boggled down with other projects and school, with the former one not going well, but mattering a whole lot to me, so blame the last paragraph and abrupt end on that.  
> I hope you enjoy it nonetheless(, and comments would really brighten up my day.)

It wasn’t a bad day. Actually, in hindsight, it might even have been a slightly boring one. Calmness encompassed your motions during the hours and your stay at home, work free weekend time had never been like this before, not that you could remember.  
And it wasn’t too much of a surprise that you found yourself sitting in your living room then, on the single chocolate brown chair that rested besides the equally colored small couch. The tea you had brewed a while ago was cooling on the low wooden table in front of you.  
But even so, you couldn’t get yourself to pick up your porcelain cup, mind occupied otherwise.

Your head was turned to the person on the couch, close to the bright window.

Try as you might, you couldn’t stop staring at him.

Blond hair glittering in the evening sun rays, his golden eyes catching the light and glowing up accordingly, shining like brilliant jewels. It drew you in, no matter how much you told yourself to look away. Even his skin seemed too perfect to be human, a warm tan, free of moles or dimples, even though he looked as young as a teenager. It was puzzling. It was strange. But it made him, if that was even possible, just more appealing. You knew who he was, who he still is up to this day.  
And you knew you had to stop, as you were, quite frankly, staring death into the face.

You couldn’t help the erratic pumping of your heart though. Nor could you help the blood rising to your cheeks, tinting them a slight red.

You were glad that the man in front of the window was more occupied with staring at the colorful bright sky than you.

On the other hand… you’d love for those eyes to meet yours. You yearn to see them closer, just knowing that they had to be so much more breathtaking when up close, unnatural slitted pupils inmidst a sea of liquid gold drawing in your very being.

His actions are inexcusable.  
The pain he caused just as much, if not more.  
How couldn’t you remind yourself of that often enough to drop this act?  
Why were you so enamored with someone that did so much wrong?

Was it the way he acts, carefree all the time like he were still a child mixed in with the smartness of an adult scientist coming from all the time he’s lived, all the things he’s seen?

Or perhaps it was the faces he’d sometimes don, looking so lost and far away like he was in a different place and time altogether, making him appear much more vulnerable than you were aware he actually was, just like how he sat there right then, eyes unfocused but looking ahead at something that wasn’t there, but he saw anyway, and chapped lips a straight line while his soft cheek rested on his palm, elbow on top of the window sill.

Maybe it was even simpler, his mysteriousness a calling factor, his magic a bait leading you to excusing his actions just because he was a puzzle you want to solve, something to brighten up your everyday life, the one you are dreading each new sunrise.

But even so, it could be all those together, or even none of them at all. Even so, they all held their truth.

 

With how focused you were on him and used to the silence that blanketed the room, it came quite naturally for you to flinch when his unique voice echoed through the space around you both.

“I know you’ve been starring. Stop it kid, I’m not your personal TV show. If you want something, the deal offer is still up.”

He didn’t even turn his head to look at you as he spoke, nor did his pupils shift their focus. He did, however, move his right hand out of his lap to pick up his own tea and take a sip.

You knew he’d be gone in an instant if he could. If he kept finding gullible people to make deals, he might as well soon be.  
You were quite frankly dreading the time of his departure. While his presence usually turned your once quiet existence into one of chaos or loudness, you preferred the change over what you had before.

His whole being was simply _interesting_. In so many ways was he like a beacon of light in your hopeless world. With his almost always default behavior of cheerfulness and laughter, you quickly forgot what the loneliness that had accompanied you for so long felt like.

You mumbled a short apology at him, before mimicking his actions and gripping your own drink, instantly noting that it indeed had gotten cold as you feared. Chucking it down in one gulp, you raised from your seat, asking Bill if he’d like a fresh tea as well.

All you got was a short glance thrown towards you, before his slitted pupils were out of your view again.  
The blonde didn’t answer your question.

Hesitantly stalking towards your kitchen, you began setting up new water to brew the tea in.

Perhaps, your day had been as calm as it was because your temporary roommate was moody for once?  
It had happened before of course, but usually it wouldn’t extent towards you. You suspected he still wanted to get a deal, garnering power or whatever he feasted off with those, out of you and thus kept on your good side.  
Him flat out being grumpy to you never lasted this long.

While you took out a new teabag and watched the water kettle steam, you went over his behavior of the last week, realizing for how long he actually had been this cold towards you.  
The pain near your heart was prominent even as you willed it to go away.  
With even less vigor than before you finished preparing your drink, deciding to wait outside of the living room while you left it to draw for a bit.

Having a demon live with you was something one would imagine to be way worse.

Yeah, you were glad he chose you as his safe house. Up to now you still had no inkling of how much he actually knew about you and your thoughts concerning him. Not knowing made you anxious often enough. And his recent way of acting didn’t help the situation.

Remembering how he used to behave around you before he got all isolated kind of stung now.

\--------  
 _  
“You know,”, he started, content with stretching out on the couch you had honestly not used much before, never having the need to since your single chair was just as comfortable and suiting to your needs.  
“maybe I’ll start calling you Pencil.”_

_You frowned heavily, heaving your head upwards away from your reading material to glance at your new company._

_“Why?”_

_He grinned before a content hum left him as his stretching ceased, hands coming down to rest on his yellow sweater clad stomach._

_“Firstly, because you carry one around most of the time. Even when it’s not a pencil it’s any other sort of writing material.”_

_The blonde moved his left hand to hold up both his index finger and thumb.  
Before you could defend yourself, he continued speaking._

_“And secondly because you kind of resemble one. Think about it-”, upper limps enthusiastically thrown around, he happily supplied his thoughts, “easily breakable core, lets call that your emotions, shall we, and really simple to erase the work of. Ever wonder why nothing you did ever stuck around?”_

_How his tone could be so cheerful as he told you these words was beyond you, the ridiculousness of it all lodged itself into your throat, clogging it up fully._

_Now it was his turn to frown as he saw your head hanging limply with your face down onto the pages._

_“Yeesh, c’mone. It’s not that bad.”_

_Was he trying to do damage control now? Internally you snorted, imagining Bill Cipher worried about screwing up potential resources, because the great demon couldn’t control his excitement over destroying someones last confidence._

_“Yeah you’re like a pencil, but what about it? It got good sides too! There are different types of ‘em, guess you’d be one of those mechanical ones where the lead can be changed when it breaks. That’s as easy as killing kid. While it may look like a weak tool, some are quite sturdy!”_

_Back was his broad grin, like nothing had ever been gnawing at your defenses, and he’d never been the source of that. The man had a way with words however, you could simply not explain.  
Perhaps he wasn’t so bad at mending the bridges he burned carelessly. With his face alight like a child’s one on a snowy Christmas morning when it discovered the heap of presents under the green ornate tree before delving to the window, imagining the world filled with magic as the white flocks danced to the ground, it was hard to focus on the evil intent in anything he did or said. You couldn’t stay mad at him if he tried to rephrase his thoughts, right? Maybe, you just wanted to repress it._

_After a while, he hummed, making you lose the last scattered wisps of barely formed reasonings that had stewed in you brain._

_“You decide what kind of pencil you wanna be. But whatever you do, you’ll still remind me of one.”  
_

\------

He hadn’t called you by that nickname in weeks. Slowly, your emotions flickered to intense worry. Gods, did you do something wrong? It wouldn’t be surprising if you did. Maybe something you said had ticked him off? There was no telling with Cipher. At least, it being your fault, eventually, you could make up for whatever you did, even if you didn’t have an ounce of proof that you really were the problem.  
On the other hand however, maybe he just played you the whole time, preparing for you to react this exact way, planning and waiting for you to really shake on a deal, out of having gotten a taste of a near perfect life, only to have it ripped away, all in the palm of a demon.

Steeling yourself, you leaned back against the counter, eyes fixated on the tea cup, yet not focused in the slightest. You knew you shouldn’t give in. No matter how smitten you might be, his nature wasn’t one to be discarded easily. You were almost sure, that if he felt like it, he’d simply use you before disposing of you like an old broken toy that had lost it’s spark, just because he _could_.

In this sea of vague possibilities, there was one thing you _were_ sure of however, Bill Cipher would never consider you a friend of all things.

 

##

Laying in bed later, after being ignored for the rest of the evening, even during dinner, the most awkward one you ever held in your whole pathetic human life, felt utterly wrong. So terribly, terribly wrong that neither your mind nor your body wanted to find any sort of rest, both too shaken, too distracted to give in to the sweet slumber.

Not that the events of last week weren’t bad enough, but your brain just now, during this night, wanted you to remind yourself of the fact that a very dangerous, very confusing dream demon, not a simple everyday man, rested downstairs in your living room.

That was, if he was there at all.

Your nerves were skyrocketing, and despite not even sporting a blanket on top of you, sweat rolled down your skin, making you feel even grosser and, if that was even a probability, much worse than usual. Heaving your body up from the mattress proofed to be more difficult while being severely sleep deprived. It was a miracle that your swaying form didn’t knock over and cracked your face into the floor in the process. The head-rush from standing up after laying nearly motionless in the same position for hours on end didn’t help matters, your headache now growing louder by the second. Staggering on legs like pudding over to the window to open it, proofed to be fully worth it not even a minute later, as the cool night air hit your drenched face, relief of the heat washing over you like a soft comforting hug.  
You stood there for a while, fully enjoying the chill and chirping of the nightly residents, a sort of calmness laid its blankets over you, almost completely managing to cease the shaking of your limps.

Perhaps a nice night walk was all your subconsciousness needed. Determined to at least attempt to follow that hope, you hastily rummaged through your clothes, throwing them on, not caring much about the actual selection, much more ensuring that you wouldn’t walk out indecently, or freeze after spending some time outside. Deeming the thin shirt and jogging pants enough, you trotted down the stairs, hesitating after grabbing your keys. Would you need to leave a note for Bill? In case he suddenly woke up and decided to seek you out for any sort of question. Honestly, you couldn’t think of any situation that’d warrant that kind of behaviour from the man in the middle of the night.

Though, the least you could do was look if he really was there and fine, right?

Slowly, you shook your head, being quite aware of the lack of audience you had, leaving you to feel slightly weird, making the motion. You wanted to eliminate the thoughts of him, not encourage them. Sticking your keys into the door lock, your expression turned to one of sheer hardheadedness, your jaw painfully taut. You barely remembered to put on shoes, before stepping into the floor of the house you lived in, making your way towards freedom.

Entering the vast space that surrounded the more or less cozy home at the edge of the city, you took a moment to just exist, dipped fully into the darkness, the few stars that blinked through the almost dense clouds the only indication of any light. The few scattered streetlights seemed to have given up at an unknown time. You started to wander into the direction away from where you knew the heart of the city was, wanting to avoid any sort of disturbance of this strange peace.

During all this, you blatantly ignored the nagging feeling of anxiety that even the sounds of the nightly crickets playing a strangely beautiful and captivating symphony, couldn’t shake. And too stubborn to give into your worrying, you stayed outside until the owls stopped singing around you.

##

Trekking back didn’t take you as long as wandering out, though your steps seemed to have gotten even less firm. Today, you told yourself, you’d make up for the lost sleep or, even if you couldn’t, would still do your best to call this a lazy day off.  
In your musings about whether or not to binge watch a show later, the slowly graying sky wasn’t in your focus, that was, until you’d already stepped inside, got ready for the day and wandered into the living room, fully intend of warning Cipher of bothering you today.  
The first thing in your vision was the heavy downpour visible through the window, with thick raindrops beginning to be swayed by the wind and creating a melody against the smoky glass. Before you could get swept away by the weather, your gaze landed on the couch, sleeping place of your mostly new house mate.  
However, with a startling intake of way too much air at once, you discovered the place completely void of disturbances or any sleeping people.  
Quicker than you thought you could walk right now, you sped through the few rooms you called your own, even double checking the bathroom in case the man decided to miraculously take a shower at the exact same time that you’d check a different place.

You remembered the nagging feeling of something being wrong this whole morning, realizing that maybe, it had been a foolish move to ignore your normally spot on gut.  
But now, there was absolutely zero you could do about this situation. Trying to pretend that nothing happened, you trotted back to your seat in the living room, switching on the TV to take your mind off of this.  
It didn’t help much however, since you were already too dazed to realize any of your movements, and especially not the slight rustle of cloth and soft squelch of wet shoes as a yellow clad man appeared at the room’s entrance, watching your form wordlessly.

##

Much later, when all was over, when only silence rushed through your ears, the wind picking at your hair, leaving goosebumps in it's wake, you pondered those happenings and many many what if's, many many alternate actions you could have taken to make it better, to lessen the blow.  
But like always you weren't able to change anything.

Why you ever expected to matter?  
In the end,  
you pondered on that.


End file.
